Carter slammed into me once, holding my thighs steady and then he began to move, surging in and out of me faster and faster. I screamed his name as I came around him, but he wasn’t done, and he ran a finger over my clit, building me up again.
“Grab your tits, baby.”
I kneaded my breasts, rolling the nipples between my fingers and panting as another orgasm built.
“I’m close,” I rasped.
“Come, baby,” he demanded, and I exploded again.
I didn’t have time to revel in the afterglow, as I was flipped onto my stomach and my ass was pulled up into the air. Carter’s hand whispered over my back, then he settled his palm on my hip and leaned over me slightly. “That’s two.”
I shivered. My man was nothing if he wasn’t a keeper of his word. And when he said he’d give me sixteen orgasms, he wouldn’t stop until he gave me sixteen orgasms.
Sliding into me again, slowly, tortuously, he gripped my hips and pulled me back against him, but he didn’t move. I wiggled in frustration, earning me a slap on my right butt cheek. “Carter,” I growled.
“You’re always in such a rush, Cass,” he accused, burying himself deeper. “We’ve got all night.”
“But I don’t want to wait all night. I want all sixteen right now!”
He chuckled, sliding his hand between my legs. “Okay, baby. I’ve got you, but you better brace.”
I braced and was rewarded with him slamming into me from behind as he worked my clit with his hand and I nearly fell over as an orgasm ripped through me faster than I anticipated. Carter wasn’t far behind and we fell onto the mattress and he held me close as we caught our breath.
“That’s what I’m talking about,” I said, rolling to face him.
He chuckled, pushing my hair gently from my face, then stroking my cheek. “Do you know how much I love you?”
I turned my head so I could kiss his palm. “Yes. Because I love you just as much.”
He grinned, tugging my head forward to kiss him... just as his phone buzzed on the nightstand.
“No, no, no, no!” I ground out, reaching for his arm. “Do not answer that.”
He ignored me. “Ace,” he said, then sat up. “What the fuck?”
“No, not what the fuck!” I snapped, covering my face with my hands. “What the fuck is never good for me. What the fuck is interrupting the actual fuck.”
“When? Yeah? What did the cameras pick up? What do you mean, nothing?” He shot off the bed and headed into the bathroom. “Then you better call Booker and find out why that camera isn’t workin’. God damn it, Flea, rally the fuckin’ troops, whatever, but we have to find that truck. Just keep Hatch out of it for the moment. He finds his surprise from Maisie, she’ll kill us.”
I sat up. Shit, this is bad.
Ace walked back into the bedroom, jeans on and I shook my head. “Really?”
“Gotta go, baby. Someone stole the truck.”
I gasped. “The Christmas truck?”
“No, the garbage truck.”
“Oh, don’t you dare give me that tone. It could have been one of the tow trucks or something.”
He sighed, dragging on a T-shirt. “Sorry, baby. Just a little pissed right now, but not at you.”
I crawled to the edge of the bed and reached for him. “Can’t someone else take care of it? You need a night off.”
He slid his hands to my neck and stroked my pulse. “No one’s gettin’ a night off tonight, Cass. We have to find that truck or we won’t have a party on Saturday.”
“Who would steal a truck filled with kids’ Christmas gifts?”
“An asshole, obviously,” he said. “But the fucker messed with the wrong people.”
I gripped his shirt. “Yes, he did, but please don’t kill him... or them... or whomever. I really don’t want you in jail on Christmas.”
He smiled, kissing me gently. “We’ll be careful.”
Then he was gone. I groaned and fell back on the bed... straight into the wet spot. “Damn it!”
Since I had nothing better to do, I stripped the bed and grabbed dry sheets.
* * *
Ace
I hated leavin’ Cassidy in our bed, especially when she was naked and frustrated, but if we didn’t find the missing Christmas truck, there’d be no presents for some very deserving kids.
Walking into the compound, I found Booker in his office, his fingers flying over the keyboard, and I deduced he was doin’ his voodoo computer thing. “You find anything?”
Booker glanced up and shook his head. “We have several iPads inside and I’m tryin’ to activate the finders app. Just gotta find one that’s on.”
I glanced down at the list. There were more than “several” on it, so I knew this was gonna take a while.
Darien
I closed my laptop at the sound of my husband letting out a series of very loud expletives and headed into the kitchen. “What is going on?”
Mack turned off the stove and slid his cell phone in his pocket. “Some asshole stole the truck.”
“The truck, truck?”
Mack nodded.
“From the compound?”
“Yeah,” he breathed out. “Apparently the camera that was supposed to be on it has been down for two days. Booker’s got one on order, but it’s late.”
“Daddy?” Harper padded into the kitchen, rubbing her eyes. “Why are you yelling?”
He hunkered down in front of her. “Sorry, baby, I didn’t mean to wake you. Everything’s okay. Just something with work.”
Harper patted his face, then hugged him. “It’s okay. You’ll work it out.”
He stood back up with her in his arms kissed her cheek. “You’re right. It’ll all be fine. Come on, I’ll tuck you back in.”
We had two girls. Harper, ten, and Huxley, eight. I found it ironic that the biggest playboy on the planet ended up making girls, and now he’d have to deal with men like him when they got to dating age. He, on the other hand, couldn’t have been happier. He was a great dad and I knew our girls would grow up to find men who cherished them the way their daddy did.
While Mack put Harper back to bed, I checked on Huxley who was sound asleep and probably wouldn’t have woken up even if a gun had gone off. I headed back to the kitchen and peered into the pot on the stove.
“Pasta,” he said, wrapping his arms around me from behind. “I was hungry.”
“Apparently.” I turned to face him, looping my arms around his neck.
“Did you get your wordcount in?”
“I overachieved and wrote an extra thousand,” I said. “Do you need to go to the compound?”
“Not yet. Ace and Booker are over there now. Why?”
I licked my lips. “Because I just wrote the dirtiest sex scene to date, and it kind of got me super hot.”
I was a romance author and Logan “Mack” Reed was my muse.
He chuckled, sliding his hands under my T-shirt. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“How hot?”
“Nipple clamp hot.”
He tugged my bra down and ran his thumbs over my already hard nipples. “Love it when you say ‘toys.’”